Like Acid
by hypersensitive
Summary: Don't touch me like you mean it, or kiss me like you care. For kisses meant, only taste like acid."


**Like Acid**

  


**Disclaimer**: It isn't mine. JKR owns Harry Potter.

**Dedications**:This is for the lovely, and simply wonderful **Shadafakup** who betaed this, inspired this (the part about acid comes from her fic "Stolen Vinegar Moments" go read), and has been my constant support. She writes brilliantly and I love her to bits. Go check her out.

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You always came.

And I would always be waiting.

Whether it was after a fight, work, or anything else. You knew that I would always be waiting. You knew, for you read me openly. Never once have you tried to deny it – I was that transparent.

Tonight was no exception. I rushed to the door as soon as I heard the doorbell ring. You could have unlocked it yourself, I told you the spell before. But you never listened, or never tried. Preferring to ring the bell, perhaps so that you could hear me running to open the door, knowing full well that I would give in to you.

Taking in your face each night seems worse than before. You were so young, so beautiful. Now your eyes are hollow, and there are dark circles forming below them. I chide myself for thinking you ring the doorbell on purpose. Perhaps you are just too tired to fumble for the keys. As you step into the hallway, I tentatively place my fingers on your arm. You shove me away again, saying nothing.

I _never_ learn my lesson.

"You ok?" I whisper.

The only answer from you is a grunt.

It came as no surprise. For you were as cold as you look. I do not remember falling in love with you, so why was I doing this? Why was I subjecting myself to this torture? The war I think. The war. You saved my life then, I thought maybe you could save mine again. I can still remember your voice ringing in my head.

"Don't touch me like you mean it, or kiss me like you care. For kisses meant, only taste like acid."

The childishness of myself, I cannot explain for I have hung on to every word you've said. Remembering and reminding myself, like salt on wounds.

Lying on bed, I watch your fluid movements. You've never bathed before coming to me. Always after. How did everything start? Everything **wrong** start. We had each other before. Why was it so different now? I thought by professing my feelings, you would love me too. But I could not have been more mistaken.

You gave me what I thought I wanted, but you had your conditions – your infamous statement – to never touch you like I meant it. There's a squeezing sensation in my chest whenever I think of you saying that. It never goes away. But it is different for me. When you do not mean the things you do, it burns my skin like acid.

Nothing tonight changes. Hoping blindly each time, but again I am a mere receptacle for your seed. You whisper a spell so that I am ready, and it becomes almost painless for my body. I hiss when you place one finger in me, and moan when you place three. I sigh when your touch me, and groan when you're in me. They are appropriate sounds, for an inappropriate situation.

Not once has it been any different. I feel like an animal. I love you, and loathe myself. Yet some part of me hopes that the spell means you care. My head is spinning away and I try not to think that I disgust you. Marked, like property you will never acknowledge.

In my head, I fly miles away. My body calls for yours but my soul screams for you to hear it. Secretly I know, you are not thinking about me. My eyes shut painfully, blocking out your image.

Clenching my teeth, I numb myself. It gets easier to drift each night, but never less painful. A black void seems to swallow me and I let myself sink deeper into oblivion. My chest _hurts_.

Your crush me with your weight and I suffocate. Love me like no other "_please._"

But then it is over, and you pretend you never noticed my tone. You walk over to the bathroom and I try not to let my eyes wander over your legs, your back, your neck, and your hair. You.

I pull up the covers, trying to savour the lingering smell of you. The shower turns on as I try to sleep. At times I wish you are crying under all that rushing water, and you will come begging for me. Then I can hold you and care for you like I really mean it.

Sliding into sleep my dreams are of you but what does it matter. Tomorrow is a same new day.

You never loved me or wanted me, but I _breathe_ you.

Loving you, and hating myself. You taste like acid, and it is _my_ entire fault.

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**Hypersensitive's **A/N: Their identities are up for speculation. =) Any remaining mistakes are my own carelessness, not **Shadafakup's**. Hope you liked it, please review, its my first fic here on ffnet.


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